


The End of Light

by sdlucly



Category: The OC
Genre: Episode Tag, Gen, M/M, S02E18 The Risky Business, episode AU, pre slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-02
Updated: 2012-12-02
Packaged: 2017-11-20 02:52:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/580483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sdlucly/pseuds/sdlucly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>United, we're unstoppable. Divided? People get shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The End of Light

**Author's Note:**

> This is set during The Risky Business, but turned into an AU because this didn't happen and Seth didn't realize that he's an ass and that he should tell Ryan that he loves him. *nods*

Seth sighs, shifting in his chair. The plastic chair makes his back ache, and his shoulder started to burn not so long ago from something, could've been anything really, though he has no memory of hurting his shoulder. He scratches his eyebrow, feeling the stitches above it. Well, he has a very vivid memory of that. No wonder.

A whimpering sound leaves Seth's throat, and he leans forward, elbows on his knees, hands in his hair. His eyes start to sting and how could everything go so wrong in so little time?

_Hey, where are you going?_

His fault, all his fault. Seth shakes his head. God. It's all his fault. If he had... well, if he had done so many things differently they wouldn't be here, not right now. Not in this place where it smells like ammonia and alcohol, he wouldn't have three stitches on his eyebrow and Ryan wouldn't be in surgery at the moment, would he?

Seth bites down on his lower lip, hard, making something inside him hurt. Good, good, pain is good, and it might keep everything inside, this overwhelming sense of loss and pain and everything at once, trying to take over him, to consume him. His right hand goes to his mouth, pressing tight when he feels like he might break all over again.

_Well, you're gonna need a wing man_

Wingmen don't do this. Wingmen are reliable and keep their friends safe and in one piece. Wingmen don't let their friends get shot in the chest, do they?

Tears are on the edge of Seth's eyes and he shakes his head, rapidly, the headache that threatened to overcome him finding a safe place to grow into a dull throbbing in the back of his brain.

_Ok, I've got a plan_

It was supposed to be easy. Seth was supposed to keep the guys at the front door while Ryan went through the back, got the egg, and then they both would leave. It was simple. It was stealth, goddamnit!

His right hand shifts, thumb and index finger pressing against his lips.

This is his fault. Everything. From the very beginning. Seth knew Ryan was right about Trey. He knew it, but he thought, well, the guy deserves a second chance, right? Ryan got a second chance with them. Trey deserves it as well. Right? Only, no, not really. Trey got a second chance and he blew it.

_And you knew it, didn't you?_

Seth grimaces at the whisper from his mind. Yes, he knew it. From the first moment. From when Newpsie number three, or is Joan considered Newpsie number two? Either way, that doesn't matter. Seth knew it. It was Joan who called the house, asking about whether his dad had the inventory of the things to be auctioned, because, well, sorry, but I think I lost my copy. And it wasn't his dad who was in charge of that, but himself. It was him and he was pretty sure he left one copy back at the country club. So, sure, Ms. Clark, I'll go back there and look for one for you, what do you think? And what do you think, there was a copy left back there, under the statue of the guy who looked like he wanted to throw something but couldn't find whatever he was supposed to throw. It was dipped in gold, probably, the only reason that thing was worth anything. And guess what wasn't there?

Wheels on linoleum floor catch Seth's attention and he looks up at the hallway leading to units in the surgery floor. There's a nurse in dark green uniform wheeling a food cart. Seth swallows back before checking his watch. Almost five, no wonder. And how time flies when one is on the verge of a nervous breakdown, huh?

The sob in the back of his throat makes him lower his head, shake it, and bite down so hard on his lip he wonders about drawing blood.

All his fault, really. All his fault. The moment he noticed the egg wasn't there, he should have said something. He shouldn't have just pushed it to the back of his mind, told himself they probably moved it, or the owner decided he didn't want to auction it after all. No, he should have told his parents, someone. Anyone really. And maybe this wouldn't have happened.

But he didn't. He kept quiet, thought things would fix themselves because they always did, right? Because it's always Ryan who makes it all right, makes everything good again, no matter what, no matter how much trouble he gets in or what he has to do. Right. Because that's the kind of guy Ryan is, always has been, always will be. And it would have happened once again. If Seth hadn't gone with him, well, maybe Ryan would have gotten out of there without any trouble. But he did go. And he did come up with a plan, which went all to hell, for all the good it did them.

_Man. Hey. Take it easy. The money's right here._

The guy hadn't cared about the money. He hadn't cared about anything, not even getting the egg back.

One moment they were running, egg soaring through the air before Seth, who miraculously caught it. And next? Well, next the guy Ryan punched grabbed a gun from his belt and aimed it at him, at Ryan, at both of them as Ryan stood by Seth's side, hands in the air, slowly taking a step back.

Seth had tried to talk them down. It hadn't worked. Ryan had given them what they paid Trey for it. They hadn't cared.

_Hey. Hey. I mean, come on, dude. You don't wanna do that._

Ryan had been trying to do something, Seth knows. He'd been eyeing the area, the other guy, the bigger guy, standing by the shorter guy, but it hadn't mattered.

_Bang, bang!_

Seth jumps back, even now, hearing that awful sound in the back of his mind. He leans back in his chair, breathing hard, panting, sweat on his forehead, his hands trembling as he stares down at them. He had only heard it once before, with Donnie and Luke getting shot. But it had been Ryan this time. And there had been so much blood. Everywhere, blood. On Ryan's shirt, white turning red so very quickly, and that part Seth hadn't remembered. Blood on black, turning it an electric color that Seth would rather not think about. Blood on his hands, on his fingers. Blood on his blue shirt and on his beige jacket. Blood. Everywhere, just blood.

"Sweetie?"

Seth looks up, his mom walking toward him from the other end of the hallway, from the elevator. Her and his dad had gone down for coffee. They each have a cup in their hands. Seth blinks, focusing on her face, and he can see her eyes wide and red and puffy. His dad, still in his suit and his very ugly gold tie, arm around her shoulders, touching her bare skin over the edge of her white dress, and she seems to shake with every step she takes. 

"Huh?"

His voice is rough against his own ears and he clears his throat, looking down at his hands. They've stopped trembling, but he wonders how long that'll last.

She places a hand on his shoulder and squeezes. Seth looks up once again. She gives him a sad smile before her eyes fill with tears once again.

"Why don't you change?" His dad asks, jerking his head toward the small bag by Seth's feet. 

Seth's gaze follows as he, almost for the first time, sees the bag. Summer brought it. He remembers that much. Summer brought it awhile ago, when she came to check on him before going back to the house, to keep Marissa company. He hadn't minded seeing her leave. He didn't want her there, not with him. Seth wants to be alone, waiting for Ryan.

"What?"

His dad sighs as Kirsten takes the seat by Seth's side. "You should change, son."

Seth looks down at himself and he had almost forgotten about the blood all over his dress shirt, over the waistband of his pants. Seth had hugged Ryan from behind as Ryan gasped for one breath after the next, the guys getting the egg and the money and making a run for it. Seth grimaces, frowning slightly, staring at the blood. Ryan's blood. On his pants and on his shirt and on his tie. Ryan gasped, long and hard, blood oozing even through Seth's fingers as Seth pressed with as much force as he could. He had to stop the bleeding, make it clot or whatever. He had to stop it and he had taken off his jacket to place it over Ryan's chest, on his shoulder, over both bullet wounds. But it hadn't helped. The jacket had been soaked through even before Seth finished calling his dad, calling 911.

_Seth._

That had been all Ryan had said, for the longest minutes of Seth's life, for as long as it had taken the ambulance to find them. That had been all Ryan had said, over and over again.

_Seth_

He has no idea how many times Ryan repeated it, his name, between lips that filled with blood the more he tried to talk.

_Dude. Don't talk. Just. Don't. You'll be fine. Just breathe._

Seth's voice had caught even as he tried not to cry back then, and Ryan had looked at him with a face full of understanding and forgiveness, even though Ryan didn't know, back then, that it had all been his fault.

"My fault," Seth whispers, shaking his head. "My fault."

"Oh, honey."

There's a hand on his shoulder as he stands up and picks up the duffel bag. "I'm gonna," Seth says, shrugging as he does so. He makes his way down the hall and only when he reaches the bathroom does he look back.

His mom's sitting, her face in her hands, and her dad stands by her side, places his arms around her shoulders and she buries her face on his stomach, holding him back with what little strength she has left.

Seth takes a shaky breath and walks into the bathroom. There's only one toilet, so he locks the door and places the bag on top of the lid.

Seth looks around the white room, white walls, white facilities. Everything is white. And he has so much red on him. He opens the tap and washes his hands, even though there's no red there. Not anymore. They washed his hands, to treat the small cuts. His forehead as well, to do the stitches. That had been so long ago, and Ryan had been in surgery all this time.

Something rises from his throat, taking him by surprise, and the next thing Seth knows he's crying, on his wet hands, over the sink. Crying and whimpering and muttering nonsense under his breath. There are screams at the back of his throat, and he screams silently because this is a hospital and he doesn't want his parents to hear him. Screams until he's crying no more, until he's sitting on the floor, not certain how he got there, but knowing his legs couldn't hold him up any longer.

His hands are still over his mouth, pressing tightly, both of them. Seth bites into his palm and he thanks the pain that makes his scream die in his throat, not minding the tears.

His fault. All his fault. He should have said something. He should have told his parents about the egg and about Trey. He should have talked Ryan into not going after it. He should have told him that they could talk with his parents, that they would pay for the egg and there would have been nothing like this. No stupid stunt and no shooting.

He shakes his head, leaning back, legs stretched, the tiles cold under his pants. There are no more tears inside him, no more screams. There's nothing but pain and loneliness and a sense of failure that he doesn't know if he'd ever walk away from, move on.

_United, we're unstoppable. Divide? People get shot._

But they were together, and it didn't help. Seth was there, and he only got Ryan hurt. He closes his eyes. He was there, and he thought he was doing right. It was a mistake. Seth sighs. All a mistake. Seth was there and he got Ryan shot. His fault. Nothing else.

_I'll watch your back._

And Seth might have tried to do it, but he did a lousy job at that.

"I'm sorry," Seth whispers into the nothingness of the room and himself. "I'm sorry."

But Ryan's not there to listen to him. Ryan's not there, and Seth feels broken.


End file.
